Women of the Dark Streets

by Radclyffe

  Odel tugged on her hand and drew Rhyannon down with her. Together they landed on the huge brown centre of a sunflower. She held her close and reverently kissed Rhyannon on her forehead. “You are a fabulous Queen. I was never in more awe of you than when you revealed yourself and shone in your glory.”

  Rhyannon smiled. The shimmering effect was something only royalty could manifest. It was a warning to predators that here stood a powerful creature, stay away or be harmed. “Do you truly believe they will abandon their plans now?”

  Odel looked up at the sky, pointing as she spotted something heading their way. “Let’s find out.”

  A ladybug landed beside them on the flower and dutifully told them all they needed to know. Rhyannon patted his shell gently and bid him safe journey home. Odel chuckled as his message sank in.

  “So, word is the vampires and werewolves are now arguing over whose stupid idea it was to even think of engaging the fairy folk!” She rubbed her hands together gleefully. “We’ll keep our spies in their camps as always, but I think we did what was necessary this day.”

  Rhyannon agreed. “Our literal fly on the wall eyes and ears never have been rumbled by ones who never think to look further than their own nose.” She kissed Odel sweetly. “I almost feel sorry for them. We have everything in peace here while they have to wage war to fill their empty lives.”

  “That’s because they don’t understand real magic.” Odel rested a hand on her wife’s stomach. “The life we can create is where the true magic lies. The Goddess blesses us with same-sex pairings, with the ability for us to mate and produce offspring. That’s a great deal of power she entrusted for ones so small.” She nuzzled into Rhyannon’s neck and kissed her pulse point. “You carry our next King or Queen. I can’t think of anything more magical than that expression of our love.”

  Rhyannon agreed wholeheartedly. She smiled into the eyes of her beloved. “Do you think they’ll ever realise that the magic we performed today wasn’t quite what they realised?”

  Odel shook her head. “I don’t think they’d ever suspect you’d shrunk them all down to fairy size before you even set foot into the tavern. Or would know that the magic I performed meant I merely doubled in size and was not really the giant I appeared to be to their tiny eyes!”

  Laughing at the trick they’d pulled, Rhyannon drew Odel down to lie upon the flower. “Would you care to watch the night fall from atop a flower throne, my sweet? On this flower we are perched high above the field and can watch the fireflies dance.”

  Odel cuddled in close. “I can think of no better place to be, Rhyannon. We can count the stars before we head home. I can already see our favourite shining through, heralding the night’s fall.”

  “The second star, there on the right? The one that you told me you wished upon and which guided you on your journey to my side?”

  “The one that always guides me home to my fairy Queen and my heart.” Odel ran her tongue sensuously along Rhyannon’s full bottom lip. Rhyannon’s mouth opened to permit her entrance and they kissed languidly. Odel’s hands pushed aside the thin cloak so she could reach inside and run her hands over Rhyannon’s slim body. Her hand rested for a moment on the slight bump that was just beginning to show, then moved lower with purpose. She tugged at Rhyannon’s dress and slipped her hand under it, smoothing her palm up a soft, firm thigh. Rhyannon gasped softly as Odel’s fingers reached higher still and found her wet and wanting.

  “Here’s where the magic truly begins,” Odel whispered as she pushed aside the flimsy panties covering Rhyannon’s sex and swirled her fingers in the rich moisture waiting for her. She lifted her hand up and licked at her fingers greedily. “Sweet nectar,” she crooned and returned her fingers to the source, teasing Rhyannon with soft touches and a well-positioned thumb.

  Rhyannon bucked beneath her lover, her breath escaping in soft pants as she strained to push her body closer to Odel’s tantalising fingers. She heard the unmistakable sound of wings beating as Odel’s own passion rose and her wings began to flutter in arousal.

  “Sweetheart, what are those barbs on your wings?” Rhyannon had to ask before passion clouded her mind completely.

  “Rose thorns. I had my brothers help me attach them with honey so that I looked suitably threatening.”

  Rhyannon smiled as she looked up into the face of her mate. No one looking at her now, her face suffused with love and passion, would ever think of her as threatening. But Rhyannon knew that Odel would protect her to her last breath, which was why she alone had accompanied her to the tavern.

  “My fearless warrior,” Rhyannon sighed, then gasped as Odel entered her. Odel’s fingers knew exactly where to touch. So in tune with her lover’s body Odel coaxed endless shivers and bolts of pleasure through Rhyannon’s small frame. Rhyannon clutched at Odel’s shoulders, clinging on tight to the only stability she knew. The petals she lay upon rocked with her in tandem to the motion Odel commanded. Odel whispered soft words against her lips, encouraging her, delighting in Rhyannon’s beauty and professing her love for eternity. Rhyannon’s hips bucked as Odel took her. Slowly the pleasure built until Odel placed a thumb firmly on Rhyannon’s clit and rubbed. The added stimulus made Rhyannon cry out into the night sky and she saw more than the stars above as she climaxed in her lover’s arms. Protectively, Odel covered them both with her wings, shielding them from the night sky and enveloping them in an intimate embrace.

  Sated, Rhyannon tugged Odel closer, kissing her with a lazy passion. “I pity our neighbours not knowing this joy, making love under the stars with the flowers as their mattress.” Her own hands began a gentle foray down Odel’s uniform, her nimble fingers finding places to slip inside to touch and tease her eager mate.

  Odel nodded absently, already surrendering to her lover. When she spoke her voice was husky, roughened by her need. “There’s really nowhere more perfect than being away with the fairies.”

  In the Bell Tower

  MJ Williamz

  Jackson Square is a carnival ride for the senses. The sights and sounds of the street merchants, the smells of delicious Cajun food wafting from one restaurant or another, and the feel of the heavy, humid air pressing on the crowds. It was summer, and there was no place I’d have rather been than New Orleans.

  I woke just past sunset that June evening and climbed out of my custom-made, extra-wide coffin to peer down on the square. From my vantage point of the old bell tower in St. Louis Cathedral, I watched the comings and goings of the scantily clad tourists and the carefully practiced choreography of the local pickup artists.

  One group in particular caught my attention. There were five women in their early twenties. They were laughing and talking as they emerged from Pirate Alley onto Jackson Square.

  Two women led the group, walking arm in arm. Two of the others giggled as they looked around, but the fifth woman looked scared, like she was trying to climb into herself to keep others from noticing her.

  She was the beauty of the group, her insecurity incongruous with her wavy blond hair, deep blue eyes, and tight tan body covered only by a pink spaghetti strap top and short white denim shorts.

  I watched as a man in cutoffs and a blue T-shirt approached her, gaping holes showing in his smile. He slicked back his greasy hair as he attempted to strike up a conversation with her. Her friends kept walking, and suddenly, she was alone with this man in the middle of the crowd. No one paid any attention to them as he grabbed her arm.

  The jump to the ground seemed to take an eternity, and I was moving as soon as my feet hit the grass. Unseen to the humans, I sped to the man and woman and tore his hand from her arm. I twisted his arm behind his back.

  “Get the fuck out of here. Now!” I shoved him.

  I heard him mumble something about “dyke” as he stumbled off, nursing his sore limb.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was soft, with an accent from the North.

  “No problem. I’ve seen his type around here many times. Why didn’t you scream o
r something?”

  “He told me if I caused a scene, he’d kill me. He said he had a knife in his pocket.”

  I fought a smile and motioned to the crowd. “Sunshine, he wasn’t about to stab you here in front of a million people.”

  “I guess I feel stupid now.”

  “No need for that. Fear makes it hard to think clearly. Just be more careful, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Now weren’t you with a group earlier?”

  “I was, but they’re feeling no pain and probably didn’t even notice I’m not with them.”

  “Well, this isn’t a safe area for a young lady to wander around by herself. Can I walk you back to your hotel? Or maybe you’d like to grab a drink?”

  She favored me with a bright smile, and my crotch clenched. This woman was beautiful, and I imagined she tasted as good as she looked. I decided then and there to find out for myself. I smiled back at her, flashing my dimples.

  “I’d love a drink. I think I need a hurricane.”

  I steered her toward my favorite watering hole in Pirate Alley. The bartender Antoine saw us and called out, “Hey, Dawson! What can I do you for?”

  There was a decent crowd, but we pushed through to the bar with ease. “I’ll have a Turbo Dog, and the lady would like a hurricane.”

  “Oh, little sister,” Antoine cautioned in his singsong voice. “Those can be dangerous. You think you’ll be able to trust Dawson here after a couple of those?”

  “Will I care?” my new friend shot back.

  “I like this one.” Antoine handed us our drinks.

  “Me too.” I winked at him and followed the girl to an empty booth by the pool table.

  I extended my hand across the table to my date. “As you may have guessed, my name’s Dawson.”

  “Is that a first or last name?”

  “It’s what I answer to.”

  She laughed, a magical sound that embraced me in warmth. “My name’s Amanda.”

  “Amanda,” I repeated. “I like that. It’s nice to meet you, Amanda.”

  “Likewise.”

  “You seem to be more relaxed now. I’m happy to see that.”

  “I’m sorry, but all those people creeped me out. I don’t usually like crowds.”

  “You’re in the wrong part of the city, then.”

  “Yeah. I get that.”

  “Will your friends be worried?”

  “Oh, yeah. I should probably text them.”

  She slid a thin phone out of her shorts pocket, and I watched her fingers dance along the keypad. I imagined them dancing across me. The night was young. But patience was not my strong suit.

  “Tell me about yourself, Amanda.”

  “I grew up in Seattle and now live in Portland. I’m here with my friends on vacation. We’ve always heard about how cool this place is. We finally decided to check it out.”

  “I’m sorry you’re less than impressed.”

  “My impression’s improving.” She smiled again, and I melted. I didn’t even know this mortal, but she had me wrapped around her little finger.

  “Do you shoot pool?” I asked.

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “I’ll break.” I stood and walked to the table and tried to focus on the balls rather than the beauty watching me.

  I didn’t knock in a single ball but couldn’t have cared less as I watched her bend forward, her top falling to afford me a view of her small, firm breasts. My slacks were wet. I had it bad for this one.

  I shot again, and when it was her turn, she leaned over further. After her shot, I walked up to her and stood a hair’s breadth away. “You are a tease, Amanda from Portland.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “I am not.”

  She beat me easily, and we sat as Antoine brought us each another drink.

  “So, Dawson, how long have you lived in New Orleans?”

  “I was born and raised here,” I lied easily. I had actually been born three hundred years earlier in Ireland, but she didn’t need to know that. Yet.

  “You have the most beautiful green eyes,” she said.

  “I declare, you just might make me blush.”

  “No need to blush. It’s true, though. They’re a piercing color.”

  “I wonder what I could pierce with them.”

  “Probably anything you’d like. They’re accented so well by your jet black hair.” She reached out and ran her fingers through the sides of my short hair.

  Before I could respond, the volume in the bar increased tremendously as a group of tourists walked in behind a man dressed in gothic boots, black jeans, a white shirt, and a cape.

  “Vampire tour,” I said.

  “What?”

  “The vampire tour must have just ended. They end here so everyone can drink.”

  “Do people really believe in vampires?”

  “Sure. This is New Orleans, sweetheart. People believe in all sorts of things.”

  “Do you believe in vampires?”

  “Of course I do. I’ll even show you one, if you’d like.”

  She sat up straighter. “Are you serious?”

  “Dead. Come on. Grab your drink and let’s get out of here.”

  I took her hand and led her back into the noisy night. She seemed more at ease. Whether it was me or the hurricanes, I couldn’t be sure, but I opted to believe it was me.

  I led her past the street merchants and past the façade of the cathedral. We turned down the side of it, and I pressed her into the wall. “You sure you want to see this?”

  She reached her free hand behind my head and pulled my mouth to hers. The kiss was brief, but it was enough to make my clit and nipples hard.

  “I want to see whatever you want to show me.”

  “Sunshine, you just made my night.” I kissed her hard, slipping my tongue between her lips. Our tongues moved over each other, fanning a fire that threatened to consume us. I cupped her breast and squeezed lightly, running my thumb over her erect nipple.

  “God, yes,” she murmured against my lips. She pressed her pelvis into mine. I moved my hand lower and stroked between her legs, feeling the moist seam of her shorts as I pressed it into her.

  “Come on.” I pulled her with me down the side of the building.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To see the vampire.”

  “But I was having fun!”

  “Oh, trust me. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

  Looking around to be sure no one was watching, I pulled her behind an overgrown bush. We kissed again, and this time, she set her drink down and ran her hands along the front of my body. My nipples strained against my shirt, and she bent and ran her tongue over them. She started to lift my shirt, but I stopped her.

  I reached behind her and opened a hidden door. We walked through it and into the church. Inside, I pinned her against the closed door and picked up where we left off. I lifted my shirt over my head and stood bare-chested for her enjoyment.

  “Dawson! We’re in a church,” she whispered.

  “So? God’s seen me naked before.”

  “I can’t do this here. I’m sorry.”

  “No problem, come on.” I took her hand and led her up the old wooden stairwell that led to the bell tower. When we finally reached it, I said, “Are you ready?”

  She nodded, and I led her into the open area where I lived. There was a table and chairs, several old crates with candles atop them, and, of course, my coffin.

  “What is this place?”

  “A vampire’s lair.”

  I lit some candles and took a bottle of wine and two glasses from a crate. I opened the wine, filled both glasses, and handed one to Amanda.

  “Is that real?” She motioned to the coffin before taking a sip of wine.

  “It is. And this is a real lair. But you have nothing to fear.”

  I took her in my arms and kissed her, hoping to get her back to where she had been. She kissed me back finally
, urgently. I took her wine from her and set it on the table. Together we got her shirt off and stood bare skin against bare skin.

  “You’re beautiful,” I whispered against her neck, my fangs briefly escaping their protective sheaths as I kissed her jugular, which throbbed with her arousal.

  “What if the vampire comes back and finds us?”

  “You needn’t worry about that.” I knelt in front of her, kissing her taut belly as I unbuttoned her shorts.

  “How do you know?”

  I sighed. I wasn’t in the mood for talk, but I liked Amanda and wanted to be honest with her. I sat her at the table and pulled the other chair around to sit in front of her. I took her hands in mine and stared into her eyes.

  “Amanda, I’m going to tell you something, but first, do you like me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you want me?”

  “Very much.”

  “This is where I live.”

  “What?”

  “I live here. I’m the vampire.”

  She laughed and leaned forward to kiss me. “You’re funny.”

  I pulled away and bared my fangs for her. The color drained from her face.

  “Amanda,” I said calmly. “You mustn’t be afraid of me. I mean you no harm. I just needed to be honest with you.”

  She shook her head and finally said, “You’re going to kill me.”

  “I’m not. I could have done that by now.”

  “Surely you mean to feed off me.” She moved her hands to her neck.

  “Sunshine, I obtain strength from any bodily fluid. So I don’t need your blood. I don’t need to kill you. Or even harm you. I promise.”

  The reality of what I said appeared to finally dawn on her and she smiled. “Any bodily fluid?”

  “Any.”

  “Even…you know?”

  “That happens to be my favorite.”

  “I’d be crazy to trust you.”

  “Believe what you will, but I assure you, no harm will come to you on my watch.”

  “You seem so sincere.”

  “I am, my dear.” I stroked her cheek and brushed a strand of hair off her face.